Free Under the Boardwalk by Barbara Cool Lee

stupid."
    "Of course he did."
    She looked up. He was smiling gently at her. "David Cooper obviously couldn't see beauty when it was right in front of him." He gestured toward the carousel. "Go ahead and look around."
    She walked around the carousel, her self-consciousness easing when she saw that he really wasn't making fun of her. She ran her fingers over the prancing ponies with their vividly colored trappings.
    "See, the room opens up," Kyle said, pointing to two of the walls. "The walls are steel doors that open onto the promenade outside, so people can line up for the ride."
    He jumped up onto the platform, and walked restlessly back and forth between the horses. She sat down on the edge of the platform and watched him. He still had that unsettled look about him that she'd noticed since they'd arrived at the park.
    He turned away to run his hands over one of the horses. "Ouch," he muttered. He brought his finger up to his mouth. "There's a crack in the finish," he explained. "Some little kid could get cut on that. This place is falling apart." He noticed her eyes on him and turned away again.
    "It's my fault," he said to the gray mare with chipped paint. "My grandparents, and then my parents, used to remodel the place regularly. They were always keeping up with the latest things, updating every winter for the next season. I've let the place go downhill." He ran a finger over the pony's mane.
    Hallie leaned back against one of the brass poles, and watched him.
    "Tom's right," he said after a while. "I've stayed away. The kids don't remember, but I can't help remembering."
    "After dad and mom died the park was closed for a while," he said, half to himself. "I had the kids to deal with, and settling the estate, and then Jennifer went back to her family in Stockton."
    "Jennifer?"
    "My college girlfriend." He glanced quickly at her, then away again. "Oh, I don't blame her. I was impossible to live with in those days. My life had been turned around, and I felt I was being kept from—"
    "Your mission in life?" She said it with a smile. "Being a doctor," she added, and he nodded.
    "Yeah. My mom was a doctor—did Windy tell you that?"
    Hallie shook her head.
    "Well, anyway, it all got to be too much. I don't know, I just couldn't make myself come down here and look at the place. But one day a real estate agent came to me with an offer from a developer."
    This was a different side of him than Hallie had seen before. He seemed lost, and vulnerable. "And you said no to the sale," she prompted when he didn't continue.
    He smiled. "He was going to build an oceanfront housing development on the site, called 'Rancho Madrigal Estates' or some garbage like that."
    He looked around. "I just couldn't see everything my family had worked for turned into a bunch of condos. So I called up Tom—he'd managed the place when my parents were alive—and asked him to come back and supervise the rebuilding."
    "But you never came to look at it?"
    "I couldn't," he said softly. "Cowardly, eh?" he added with a wan smile.
    "I'm not one to talk about cowardice," she said bitterly.
    He held out his hand to her. She took it, and in one effortless motion he lifted her up to stand on the platform beside him. "You look pretty brave to me," he murmured.
    "Is this one of the new rides put in after the fire?" she asked, to change the subject. He nodded, and turned away again.
    "Nowadays," he said, "all these rides are made in factories out of aluminum, fiberglass, plastic—but not back in the old days." The sweep of his hand took in the whole building. "The rides, the buildings, even the plank walkways underfoot—remember the old-style boardwalks?—everything was made of wood." He sighed. "When the fire started, it was over in minutes. The place went up like a torch."
    Hallie saw sorrow in his eyes.
    Instinctively, she put a hand up to cradle his cheek. Somehow, when he was so lost and vulnerable, she was able to reach out to him without being afraid. She